


Archery Lessons

by TeamHPForever



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 17:59:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2034636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamHPForever/pseuds/TeamHPForever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Fury insists that Clint give father-daughter archery lessons in honor of Father's Day, he elects to get through it as painlessly as possible. Until a man in a suit shows up with his adorable daughter and Clint can't take his eyes off him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Archery Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> I saw [this post](http://embraceyourfandom.tumblr.com/post/92444360148/ralkana-just-overheard-my-boss-mention-buying-a) and couldn't resist. Fair warning: The extent of my archery experience is one day at sixth grade camp and at the time I didn't really think archery was for me. Let me know if anything is wildly inaccurate and I'll do my best to fix it.

“It’s Father’s Day this weekend,” Fury says, leaning against the back fence and watching Clint fire arrows down the field.

Clint grunts in response.

“You should give father-daughter archery lessons.” The fence creaks slightly as Fury leans his weight against it.

Clint shrugs and grumbles something in response. Adults are all technical posture and making the perfect shot. Kids are just out to have fun. Teaching them at the same time sounds trickier than it should be.

“You’re giving father-daughter archery lessons,” Fury says in the same voice he probably used as an Air Force commander. “I’ve already started the advertising.”

“Sounds great,” Clint says without bothering to cut out the sarcasm. Fury snorts and walks away to leave him in peace.

Clint almost forgets about the special Father’s Day lesson until he shows up on Sunday morning to eight father and daughter pairs standing on the lawn. Most of the fathers are dressed simply in button-downs or t-shirts and jeans. They keep one eye on their daughters while they stand in a group and chat.

Clint’s eyes are drawn to one guy standing outside the group and watching him with a steady gaze. He’s wearing a full suit and doesn’t look the least bit uncomfortable despite the humidity of the day. A little girl stands next to him, hand wrapped around two of his fingers, wearing a dark blue dress and white sneakers. Her hair is a lighter shade of blond than his, but she has the same bright blue eyes.

Clint claps his hands together to draw everyone’s attention and says, “I’m your instructor this afternoon, Clint, and this is my assistant, Kate.” He waves at the brown-haired teenager pulling bows out of storage.

“Hey, guys,” she says, pausing to wave back at them.

“Why don’t we start with some introductions?” Clint glances around at everyone, allowing his eyes to linger for a moment on the man in the suit. Phil Coulson and his daughter Lola. He’s so taken with watching the two of them that he barely notices when the others say their names. Hopefully that isn’t a problem later.

Clint pulls his eyes away from the pair of them and runs through the safety regulations. Don’t point the bow at anything you wouldn’t want to shoot, don’t go out to collect arrows unless told to do it, never dry fire the bows, etc. It’s all on the forms that everyone signs but he knows that half the people here probably didn’t read all of it anyway. Plus the kids need to hear it. “Any questions?” Clint finishes.

There aren’t any. Clint’s bow feels smooth and familiar under his hands as he picks it up and gives a demonstration on the proper stance, breaking it down into simple parts for the kids. Then he watches as Kate hands out the bows.

Phil picks up a large recurve and handles it with the clumsy ease of someone who knows how to shoot but hasn’t in a long time. Clint knows that feeling well. He chuckles as Lola grabs at a bow that’s not really right for her.

Kate moves in to trade, but Clint waves her off. He’s got this. “That might be just a bit big for you,” he says, kneeling down next to her and taking the bow.

“But I don’t like pink,” she replies without a trace of a whine in her voice. Clint glances over his shoulder to see Kate holding a child-size bow with traces of pink decoration.

“That’s all right.” Clint grins at her and slips in the storage room. There’s a simple bow hidden away in the back, the same one he first used to train as a kid. He doesn’t usually get it out for lessons and he’s not entirely sure why he’s doing it now. Except maybe the way Lola beams at him as he hands it to her and the grateful smile that Phil wears. “This was my very first bow,” Clint says before he can think about it. “Take good care of it, okay?”

Lola’s eyes widen and she nods vigorously. “I will.”

Kate starts herding the girls toward the range so Clint follows along behind. Phil matches step with him. “You don’t have to lend her your bow,” he murmurs.

Clint shrugs. “I’m not using it anymore and it’s nice to see it being properly appreciated.” The set of targets for kids are larger and closer than the adults. He and Kate get everyone lined up and then walk up and down the row, calling out directions to anyone who looks like they need some help. Every so often he catches himself pausing to watch Phil and Lola.

Phil guides her gently, just enough that she’s falling into the correct position but not so much that it gets overly critical. When she lands her sixth shot on the outer rim of the target he picks her up and swings her around.

“Great job,” Clint offers with a grin as he passes by to correct a little girl who has somehow managed to get her bow turned upside-down.

The girls finish off a round of ten arrows each and then Clint sends them out to pick them up. He stops next to Phil to pretend to watch. “She’s a natural,” Clint says, breaking the comfortable silence.

“I’m glad Fury insisted that I bring her,” Phil replies.

Clint raises an eyebrow at him. “You know Fury?”

Phil waves a hand. “We’re old friends. He’s Lola’s godfather, actually.”

Clint scowls as he makes a mental note to ask him why Fury had never mentioned it. He and Fury aren’t really friends—they don’t talk about their families or lives outside of work—but it still might have been nice for Clint to have a warning that Fury’s hot, married, and totally unattainable friend would be coming for a lesson.

The girls return with handful of arrows, interrupting the chance at anything more. Clint announces that it’s the dads’ turn and leads them farther down the field to the normal target range.

Kate keeps an eye on the girls, making sure they’re staying back, while Clint focuses on instructing the adults. “Relax your shoulders,” he murmurs to Phil as he walks past. The man has a fantastic stance but he’s too stiff.

“I used to be the best shot in my unit,” Phil says, smiling over his shoulder as he obeys. “That was with a rifle, though. Been a while since I’ve fired a bow.”

Clint wants to ask where he learned and what he means by unit, but this isn’t the time. He walks on and a few minutes later he turns around in time to see Phil fire a perfect bull’s-eye. Lola claps her hands, squealing as she jumps up and down.

Clint watches him for another shot, getting caught up in the way the suit outlines Phil’s broad shoulders and the pants are just a touch too tight.

When the guys are done, it’s time to collect the arrows and give the girls another turn. Lola skips to her place on the range and immediately draws the bow. Clint’s heart stutters for a moment as he remembers the first time he drew it himself.

“Tell her to put her feet closer together. She’ll have a more solid stance,” Clint tells Phil before he pulls himself away again.

Phil moves closer to his daughter and leans down to whisper in her ear. She looks down at her feet as she slides them closer together. She doesn’t hit the target, but she’s close.

Clint doesn’t know what happens but he’s pretty sure he blinks and the lesson is over. Everyone thanks him and starts to head for their cars, until only Phil and Lola are left. Lola reluctantly hands the bow back to Clint, but he gives it back to her with a wink. “Go take another round.”

“Thank you!” Lola grins up at him and walks quickly back to her spot.

“I hope that’s okay,” Clint says as he leans back against the fence next to Phil. Kate starts putting away the bows. Clint can feel the fire of her glare on the back of his head, but he’ll make it up to her next time.

“How could I say no?” Phil beams at his daughter. “I’m glad that she’s enjoying herself.”

They watch her shoot a couple in silence. Both thump into the ground in front of the target. Lola looks frustrated, but instead of getting angry her nose scrunches up and she looks even more determined. “What do you do, Phil? I mean, I don’t see many men out here wearing suits.”

“I manage a small organization.”

“How cryptic.” Clint watches him, catching the way Phil’s eyes crinkle at the corners.

Phil grins back and winks. “It’s classified.”

“I’m very good at getting what I want.” Clint can’t help the way his voice drops lower as he leans in slightly at the end. Phil flushes slightly but he doesn’t move away. Clint tries to peer down at Phil’s hand to see if he can catch a glint of metal but apparently he’s not covert enough because Phil chuckles.

“We’ve been divorced two years,” he says, matter-of-fact despite the way his eyes harden slightly as he looks at his daughter.

“I’m sorry,” Clint says automatically.

“We wanted…different things. Or technically the same thing, I guess.” Phil doesn’t seem at all embarrassed as he says it. Clint wants to ask if he means what he thinks he does, but Lola skips up with a handful of arrows in one fist and the bow in the other.

“Why don’t you keep shooting until Mom gets here?” Phil asks her and she skips away again. Clint knows that he should probably end this at some point, but he doesn’t want Phil to have to leave.

“Where’d you learn to shoot?” Clint asks.

“Army Ranger.” Phil rolls his shoulders and shifts his weight over to the other foot, closer to Clint. “Though my grandpa taught me bow hunting as a kid. How’d you get started?”

“Circus.” Phil glances over like he expects Clint to be grinning and waiting for him to get the joke. He isn’t. “Got out when I turned eighteen and Fury took me in.”

“Teaching lessons here ever since?” Phil asks, clapping as Lola hits the target again.

Clint waves his hands at the range. “Pays the bills and I get to shoot whenever I’m not teaching. Not a bad life.”

“Not bad at all.” Phil glances at the storage room. “Can I see you shoot?”

Clint shrugs and pushes off the fence. His personal bow is locked away in a cabinet so he pulls it out and strings it with a familiar stretch. He grabs a few arrows and heads back out. The kid targets are laughably easy but he doesn’t want to pull Lola away from her shooting to take them down to the usual targets.

Clint fires three arrows in quick succession, hardly pausing to blink. They thump into the bull’s-eye. He pauses for a breath and then sends out the last two. All five of them are gathered in a tight cluster.

“Wow,” Lola whispers, watching him with wide eyes.

“Lots of practice,” Clint says, grinning down at her. He backs away from the range, letting her continue to shoot. A few minutes later she stops at the sound of footsteps and squeals, “Mommy!”

Clint barely has time to take the bow from her hands before she’s tearing off down the lawn. A brunette woman wearing a green blouse and jeans greets her with a hug and then continues toward them.

“Hello,” she says and Clint finds himself taking an immediate liking to her despite the odd spike of jealousy deep in his stomach.

“Audrey, this is the instructor, Clint. Clint, Audrey,” Phil runs through introductions with ease.

“Nice to meet you,” Audrey replies. “Are you ready to go, sweetheart?”

“Do I have to?” Lola’s eyes fix back on the bow in Clint’s hands.

Clint leans down to her level and leans the bow against the fence. “You can come back anytime and I’ll make sure you get this bow.”

“Really?” Her face splits into a wide grin.

“Promise.” Clint draws an X over his heart and straightens up again. He tries not to listen as Audrey and Phil discuss plans for the next few days and then she heads out with Lola. Phil stays behind, hand fussing along the top rail.

Clint says the first thing he can think of. “You want to shoot?”

“Sure.” Phil shrugs and starts walking toward the adult targets while Clint disappears into storage for another bow.

Clint flinches as Phil draws. “Wait. Wait,” Clint says as he moves in closer. He rests his hands on Phil’s shoulders and adjusts them. “Now lower your elbow. Inhale. Shoot.”

The arrow lands just outside of the bright red circle in the middle. Phil grins as he picks up another arrow. This one hits even closer. Clint knows that he should move away but he can feel the heat radiating from Phil’s body and all he wants to do is press himself closer.

“What you said earlier…about liking the same thing…” Clint trails off, eyes fixed on the peek of a tan line on the back of Phil’s neck.

Phil drops the bow to his side and turns around. They’re so close Phil almost knocks Clint on the nose. “Would you like to get dinner?”

Clint grins. “Absolutely.”


End file.
